


Politely Undead

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Series: Undead Chosen One [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Attachment does not equal love in this fic, Blood Drinking, Cryptozoology, F/M, Gen, Human Obi-Wan, Jedi Culture Respected, Undead Chosen One, Vampire Anakin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 21:37:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8594677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: Only a few days into our two Jedi Generals' return to the war effort, Obi-Wan has been called back again to deal with politician troubles. Anakin comes as well, since he doesn't have much choice at this point. They arrived in the still-dark hours of the morning, and Obi-Wan hasn't stopped moving since.





	

 

Obi-Wan strode down the Senate hallway, so glad the security meeting was over.

Anakin hated these committees almost as much as his Master, and now he had a durasteel-plated excuse to avoid them, leaving Obi-Wan _having_ to take them.

Anakin was... _asleep._

That's how Obi-Wan had put it to the politicians.

It really wasn't their business.

Padmé had given him a look that made him unspeakably uncomfortable.

He was trying to get out of reach, out of hearing, out of sight before she untangled herself from—

“Master Kenobi.”

He ducked his head and kept walking.

“Obi-Wan!”

Kark.  _Kark._

A hand caught his elbow and stuttered his trajectory.

He muffled his sigh as he turned and gave her a clear smile. “Senator. I hope you are well.”

 

* * *

  
Padmé's eyes narrowed.

His facade might fool politicians the galaxy over, but not her.

She'd been through too much with him.

That hellish flight to Naboo right after Qui-Gon had disowned him before the Council in favor of Anakin. The Handmaiden Padmé had heard the story from Anakin. And while Qui-Gon's Padawan had done his best to conceal his shock and hurt, Padmé was a keen observer, and she'd seen the other side of the coin that Anakin had completely missed.

_I take Anakin as my Padawan Learner._

_An apprentice you already have._

_I'm done with Obi-Wan._

Anakin had only seen Qui-Gon's acceptance of himself.

It was inevitable that Obi-Wan had felt the stab of knowledge that he was no longer enough. That the older Jedi needed more.

And the highest praise his best friend and father-figure had to offer was,  _he's competent._

He'd kept his Jedi calm as a veneer over himself through that flight.

Padmé had even overheard Qui-Gon's vague attempt to assure his Padawan he'd been wanting to talk to him about knighthood for some time now...

But Padmé had seen much in Obi-Wan's eyes and the defiant set to his shoulders.

And it didn't stop there.

Obi-Wan was doomed to more scrutiny.

Padmé had been there to watch him try to cope with Qui-Gon's death. Before anyone from Coruscant arrived, before  _anyone_ he knew showed up that he could turn to, she saw his brokenness. Saw how he took in Anakin, how he pulled the boy close in his grief.

Saw all of the pain he'd received from Qui-Gon rejecting him for the boy he'd known for a few short days be shoved aside as he took Anakin into his heart without reservation.

She'd seen him look death in the eye when the few still-living Jedi refused to surrender to Dooku in that hellish arena on Geonosis. Had seen him readjust his grip on his lightsaber, knowing all of those who'd died and all of those who  _would_ die had come for him and him alone.

They hadn't known Anakin and Padmé had followed him to Geonosis.

They'd come for him.

And they died for him.

Maybe all of them  _would._ Anakin included.

It had all been there.

The self-loathing, the guilt, the grief, the look of failure.

All kept from his face so Dooku couldn't feed off of them.

They shone in his eyes alone.

Padmé had read them.

The flight back to Coruscant as he held a severely wounded Anakin and tried to take the edge off Anakin's pain. The wrinkles in Obi-Wan's brow as he drew that pain into himself.

Obi-Wan had been wounded, beaten, had lost so many family members that day...

And all he could focus on was Anakin's suffering. On making it his own so Anakin wouldn't have to bear it.

Padmé had sat on Anakin's other side, and watched. Almost  _felt_ it.

And she was the one who'd come to rescue him on Zigoola.

The place that had nearly shattered his mind, nearly killed his light. She'd seen the haunted brokenness in his eyes. Had seen similar echos in Bail's.

Had seen the festering lightsaber wound in Obi-Wan's thigh.

And known those two had been alone on the planet.

They'd refused to talk about it. Absolutely refused.

But the glances they'd shared...

Hell would have been an understatement.

So she stared him in the eye now, and she saw his politician-mask grow just a little bit too plastic.

 

* * *

 

Kark,  _kark._

Padmé understood him far better than he felt comfortable with.

Obi-Wan refused to flinch underneath her glare.

“What is going on with Anakin?” she asked at last.

The question he'd been dreading. He held his tongue.

“I know  _something_ is happening.  _Everyone_ knows  _something's_ happened. The  _rumors_ , Obi-Wan. They're... unbelievable. Horrible. Terrifying. And you think I can just take, 'he's tired, he's sleeping' and be satisfied?”

No. No, he really didn't.  _I told you to talk to her, Anakin. I told you to do it_ immediately _, before she found out through the joganvine. I_ warned  _you this would be wors_ —

“Ahsoka won't take my calls, the Council says I'll have to ask  _him_ , the Senate is full of those ridiculous, spiteful rumors, and  _you_ try to avoid me.”

“What has Anakin told you?” Obi-Wan asked, knowing he sounded evasive and having nothing in the world he could do about it.

“The  _two_ times he actually deigned to speak with me he said he was tired and working through some things. He looked  _terrible,_ Obi-Wan. I've never seen him so pale. And the circles under his eyes, like hadn't slept in a month—”

_It's been longer than that,_ Obi-Wan thought ruefully.

“Rex is even more silent than Ahoska, and  _you_ —”

Here it came. Obi-Wan braced himself. Nothing worse than a female politician who wanted to tear you to pieces.

He should know.

If he'd survived Satine's fury, surely he could outlast Padmé's.

The tiny voice asking if he really  _had_ survived Satine's outpouring of hatred and betrayal at his new militaristic lifestyle wasn't helping. He tried to stomp it out. Things were bad enough at the moment without  _that_ starting in.

Force he missed her. Missed knowing that wherever Satine might be, she loved him. Was proud of him. Cheered him on. Thoughts of her steadfast care had been a place of refuge through so many, many hells.

He'd been forced to carry the more recent ones all on his own. Jabiim. Zigoola.

“— say. You're not listening to me, are you.” Her voice had gone dangerously quiet.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to lie, to tell her of  _course_ he was listening, but couldn't manage it. Those eyes demanded truth from him like it was her  _right._

He couldn't help but wonder why that was so, when she was never fully honest with  _him._

_In spite of everything we've been through._

In that way, she was like Anakin.

“I'm tired, Padmé. It's been a long several weeks.”

“Do you have any idea what rumors are floating around about the two of you?” she demanded.

Ah. Now  _there_ was something he could put her mind at ease about without stepping on Anakin's toes. “Those you can disregard. You know I don't see him that way.”

Padmé blinked. “As a predator?”

“What?” Now it was Obi-Wan who felt baffled. “The rumors—”

“That Anakin drinks your blood.”

 

* * *

 

Padmé saw the flicker in his eyes before his shields came up, and he looked so,  _so_ polite.

“Senator, it is not my place to explain what Anakin is going through. It's his li—  _experience,_ and it's his choice to decide when and how to share it—”

Padmé stared at him in horrified shock. “It's  _true._ I can see it in your eyes!”

“Padmé, you  _know_ Anakin, and you know me. He would never betray you, and I would like to think you know I never would either.”

Padmé grabbed his arm again and dragged him back into her empty office, keying the door shut behind them. “ _What is going on_ ?” 

Force.

What would do more damage?  _Tell_ her, and destroy Anakin's plan—  _if_ he had one— to try to explain? Or stonewall, and leave her wondering and having to shred Anakin for answers?

Obi-Wan shut his eyes and rubbed his fingers between his eyes.

Zigoola had left him with stress headaches.

Among other things.

So many other things.

“Anakin is alright,” he started out with. “He's going through some... changes at the moment that are deeply personal, and a bit difficult to sort through. It's complicated. He's feeling...” Should he go there? She was scowling at the  _complicated_ bit. Would Satine have accepted something like that?

Force, no.

_Would I?_

Was that even a question worth asking?

Of  _course_ he wouldn't.

“He's feeling... he hasn't spoken with Ahsoka either.” Oh, this was going  _really_ well.  _Good work, Kenobi. Keep it up. Satine won't have a chance to kill you because Padmé will._ “It's not my secret to tell.”

Padmé glowered up at him. “I deserve to know something this big. I'm his friend, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan stared down at her, marveling at just how barefacedly she could lie, after trying to shame him for giving her anything less than the truth.

It hurt.

How Anakin and Padmé seemed to think it was alright to lie to him, every day, about big things and little things alike, but don't he  _dare_ lie to them. About  _anything._ Or he's betrayed them.

Like Qui-Gon.

So like Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan's desperation to be taken as his apprentice. Offering up his life for him. A thirteen-year-old, willing to die by explosion for him. Being taken, and then enduring years of rejection, of not-quite-acceptance, only to think he'd finally found it. Just to stumble upon a child who was vastly more powerful than Obi-Wan. A child who had so much more potential. The  _Chosen One._ And Qui-Gon was done.

_I wasn't ready for my trials and you knew it. You'd told me just days before that I still had so much to learn._

Qui-Gon just wanted him out of the way.

And when Obi-Wan had protested, had reacted in pain, Qui-Gon had been harsh. Cruel, even. Had called Obi-Wan jealous and petty. Dismissed him.

Focused on bonding with Anakin.

And his final words hadn't been for Obi-Wan.

They'd been for the boy. About the boy.

But when it came to Obi-Wan's loyalty to Qui-Gon?

He'd faltered once,  _once_ — and Qui-Gon had left him alone on Meliida/Daan.

A child.  _Alone._ In the middle of a brutal war.

And when Obi-Wan returned to the Order, instead of being relieved the child had found his way again...

Qui-Gon had resented him. Made him pay.

_I cannot lie to Anakin and Padmé, but they have every right to lie to me._

_My loyalty to Qui-Gon had to be absolute, there had to be no confusion and no doubts, but he never intended to stay with me longer than necessary. He was always waiting for someone better to come along._

“Obi-Wan?”

He blinked, trying to banish images that were too solid, too close. Tried to still his speeding up breathing. Tried to stave off—

Kark.  _Kark._

Zigoola had given him flashbacks.

Headaches, and flashbacks.

And  _yes._

Panic attacks.

He heard Padmé swear, dimly felt hands pushing him into a chair. “For Force's sake,  _breathe_ , Obi-Wan!”

_What is wrong with me? Why am I not enough? Why have I never been enough?_

_“You're no Qui-Gon Jinn.” “Qui-Gon should have been the one to train me.” “You only want what's best for you! Qui-Gon wanted what was best for_ me _. He was willing to defy the Council to train me!”_

_So did I._

Obi-Wan had never told Anakin that. Had never told Anakin about that moment, kneeling before Yoda, when he'd been willing to throw everything away for Anakin's sake, even though he barely knew him.

To yell it to him in the middle of one of those brutal moments would have been... it would have been wrong. And to tell him in peacetime...

Wouldn't that have been defending himself against an attack he  _deserved_ to suffer? He  _wasn't_ as good a master as Anakin deserved.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, but that only made the images clearer and the voices louder.

He felt dizzy. It was so hard to think—

Anakin had been anxious and tense, pacing the whole flight to Coruscant.

It had kept Obi-Wan from sleeping, and before that, he hadn't slept well in... a very long time...

And because of Anakin's emotional insecurity, stemming from his anticipated Padmé trouble, he'd taken more from Obi-Wan this morning than usual.

Obi-Wan hadn't felt hungry, and he may have skipped breakfast...

“Force you're pale, Obi-Wan.”

And lunch yesterday. And he hadn't  _really_ eaten dinner, just half a ration bar. The thought of food made him nauseous. He was too tired. He needed  _sleep,_ not  _food,_ but he couldn't seem to  _get_ any—

The world lurched.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan awoke, disoriented and miserable.

The headache was worse.

At least he wasn't seeing ghosts of the past.

How he  _hated_ Zigoola's parting gifts. The planet had given him a whole new set of weaknesses he hadn't had before. It had punched holes through his defenses, and only a few of those had actually  _healed._ Some had been patched.

Many...

Many were simply gaping holes, and if an enemy was lucky enough to stumble across one—

_I'm going down._

He was lying on his back on the floor.

His clothes loosened.

Shoulder armor missing.

_Kark._

“You couldn't breathe,” Padme's voice came from somewhere near. “I guess it's a good thing you warned me about the blood before I found the bite marks.”

Would everything just stop  _spinning_ , please, he had a disaster to attend—

“He should have just talked to you. First. Foremost. Just  _got_ it over with and  _none_ of this—

“Why didn't he?”

Obi-Wan blinked several times, hoping to still the crazily giddy ceiling. Nope. It seemed bent on his destruction. “I don't know. No, yes, I do. Fear.” Was he betraying Anakin by saying it?

Fear of betraying Qui-Gon. Fear of betraying Anakin.

The lines blurred, the pain, the weight twisting into his soul.

Not good enough...

“Fear?” Padmé echoed. “Of what?  _Me?_ How I'd respond? Because I respond to things so unreasonably?”

Oh, dear. She sounded insulted. Seriously kriffed off.

No, no, no....

“Fear of being unable to express himself well enough for you to understand what's going on in his mind. Fear of messing up that first explanation and so coloring the rest of your views from then on. Fear of himself.”

“Because he's a blood-sucking monster?”

“Because he doesn't want  _you_ to think he's one!”

“I would never—”

Obi-Wan struggled up. “Really?” he snarled. “Because I thought I'd found a person like that too. And she—” His hand shook as it scraped down his face. “Force.”  
He could feel Padmé's stunned gaze fixed on him.

After a long moment she spoke again, the aggression gone from her voice, and sounding just a bit insecure. “Obi-Wan?”

He forced himself to look up at her. “The Council believes in him. You have my personal promise he is  _still Anakin._ To look at him as something evil just because his biology has changed is unevolved. Just like every other being in the universe, he has a  _choice._ He is choosing to align himself with protecting the innocent. If you have trouble explaining it to friends, maybe you could say they should look at it like he's changed species.”

“Because  _that_ happens and is understandable,” Padmé returned, tone dry.

The door slid open. “Padmé, Breha sent her notes on the privacy invasion bill— Obi-Wan?  _Kark,_ what happened to your  _neck_ ?”

“Hello, Bail,” Obi-Wan sighed, pulling himself to his feet only to feel woozy. His stomach growled.

“When's the last time you ate?” Padmé asked.

Obi-Wan shrugged. “I haven't been hungry.”

Padmé glowered at the wounds on his neck. “So you're  _not_ putting anything  _in,_ and he's taking nutrients  _out._ No wonder you passed out.  _Sit._ ”

Obi-Wan obeyed.

“What is going on?” Bail asked, staring at the two of them.

“Apparently the rumors are true,” Padmé offered grimly.

“I highly doubt that,” Obi-Wan scoffed. “Most of them were probably started by Ventress.”

It took a while to calm both politicians, and it required Obi-Wan eating, even though every fiber in his body screamed at him to _not._

Bail, of course, was suspicious of Anakin's new depredations on Obi-Wan. To say the least.

Obi-Wan tried to assure them both things were being worked out.

“I don't know, Obi-Wan. I'd feel a lot more comfortable if someone was guiding the two of you through this.”  
Obi-Wan frowned. “It's not like there's people standing by to _do_ so, Bail. We're not turning away any offers.”  
“I know a guy. He's a professor of cryptozoology on speaking tour here on Coruscant. He and I have late dinner plans for this evening; I'd like you and Anakin to be there.”

“What is cryptozoology?”

“The study of creatures most scientists think are myths.”

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow. “There  _is_ such a field?”

“Oh, there certainly is, and he specializes in creatures of the night. He's spent a lifetime studying everything there is to learn. Will you come?”

Obi-Wan could sense Padmé's eagerness. “I think it's a very good plan, Obi-Wan. In fact, I insist. I understand you want me to take all of this on faith, but I need a little more than that. I need to process this on my own, and I think it would be wise if the two of you went with Bail before the two of you come to visit me. Together. With a warning first.”  
And  _there_ it was.

Law laid down.

Now he  _had_ to go.

“Where do we need to be and at what time?” Obi-Wan tried to be graceful and knew he utterly failed. It only grew worse when he heard the answer. “So fancy a restaurant?”  
“You'll live.”

Bail gave Obi-Wan a ride home, and the Jedi somehow manged to trudge his way up to Anakin's room.

There were a few hours left before his former Padawan would be waking up, but Obi-Wan suspected he might fall asleep and lose track of time.

Last thing they needed was for Anakin to wake up alone, panic, and go zipping through the Temple searching for Obi-Wan. Hungry. Agitated because of Padmé.

Better to play it safe.

At least he didn't have to worry about  _waking_ Anakin.

He stepped into the familiar room to find it in complete disarray. As usual. Droid pieces, clothes, a few ship models left over from childhood; posters from podraces covering the walls.

Obi-Wan cleared off a chair and sank into it, trying to focus on the documents he was supposed to review, but the letters kept scrambling, and the light of the datapad hurt his eyes.

It didn't take long before he fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

“Obi-Wan?  _Obi-Wan?_ Why aren't you waking up?”

Oh, for the  _love_ of—

“Anakin?”

“Was Padmé there? At the security meeting? Or any of the other meetings?”

Obi-Wan blinked and sighed. “How long have you been awake?”

“Just woke up. You were out cold. Almost more unconscious than asleep. Scared me.”

Obi-Wan shook his head and hauled himself out of the chair. He was getting too old to sleep in chairs. It fripping  _hurt_ when he stood up again.

“Yes. She was present. And she knows.”

“How'd she take it?” Anakin sounded panicky.

“She asked for a little space. She wants us to meet with a professor friend of Bail's first, before going to see her. That would be a fancy dinner. In—” he glanced at his chrono— “Half an hour. We better get ready.”

* * *

 

Obi-Wan and Anakin arrived in spotless condition, the press-lines in tunics and leggings crisp. Soothing music glittered against Anakin's ears, and the flash of precious jewels kept snagging his attention as he and Obi-Wan were led between tables of ultra-rich patrons.

Green gems were quite attractive. The red ones even more so. They looked like blood, preserved for all eternity....

Anakin had never been attracted to stones before.

He shook it off as a new, bizarre facet of his existence now, only to find his attention captivated by the water cascading from a small fountain.

 

* * *

 

Obi-Wan, used to the way Anakin would get fixated on something and lose track of everything else, lightly pulled him away from the flowing water without missing a beat.

And then they were at the table. Bail rose to greet them, a smile on his face.

“General Kenobi, General Skywalker; I'm so pleased you could join us. Please allow me to introduce you to my friend, Professor Avon Mellic.”

Obi-Wan stifled a sigh. Formality of this order, when  _not_ combined with a mission, was so—

He felt Anakin's amusement and forced himself to relax.  _Oh? So you want to_ laugh  _at me, do you?_

Anakin would be the first to make a mistake. He'd see.

The drifts of polite responses in all directions took place, and Obi-Wan and Anakin sat at the offered invitation.

Obi-Wan  _was_ impressed by how naturally Bail was behaving. Anakin's wariness of him was evaporating. One could almost think Bail completely oblivious to the changes Anakin had undergone.

Or...

That they didn't lessen his respect for the Jedi one whit.

“I am very pleased to finally speak with someone of your nature after having studied them for so long,” Mellic said, voice cordial and warm. “Thank you for being willing to meet with me.”

“I'm afraid it's not from charity, Professor. Your expertise was quite the lure for General Skywalker and myself.”

Anakin was inwardly yawning. Obi-Wan repressed the urge to kick him under the table.

Being a dinner, of  _course_ they had to order. Obi-Wan scanned his menu, feigning interest, and chose the bare minimum to not appear rude.

And found Professor Mellic watching him with keen eyes. “Not hungry, General Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to demur, but Bail interjected before he had a chance.

“ _Yes._ ”

Somehow Obi-Wan kept from scowling at him, but if Anakin kept that  _snickering_ going on in the Force, Obi-Wan  _was_ going to kick him.

“Ah. Would you, by any chance, be General Skywalker's main supporter? The one providing him with nourishment?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan admitted.

Mellic nodded. “Has it been difficult to sleep?”

“Yes.”  
“Difficult to focus?”

“Yes...”

“He passed out earlier today,” Bail offered, so helpfully.

Anakin froze, his head snapping around to look at Obi-Wan in horror. “ _What_ ?”

“It's nothing.” Obi-Wan tried to wave him off, grumpy with Bail's meddling.

“I may have the answer for that,” Mellic offered calmly. “The venom that coats General Skywalker's teeth saps the will to live from those he feeds on most regularly. Its function is to ensure the food source doesn't flee so far while he's asleep that he cannot recapture them the next night.”

Anakin looked just a little horrified. “How bad can it get?”

“There have been some manuscripts that have documented cases where the main blood supply refuses to leave the vampire's side as he sleeps—”

Uncomfortably, Obi-Wan remembered his urge to attend to his work in Anakin's room even though he had hours of cushion before he needed to be there.

“—and if the vampire does not intervene to insist on care being taken of the living creature in question, they will die of lack of sleep, starvation, dehydration, exposure, or just pain lack of interest, depending on which comes first.”

Obi-Wan could sense Anakin's alarm, and sent him soothing waves of calm in the Force.  _We'll figure it out. We always figure it out._

“What can we do about it?” Anakin asked, every muscle taut.

Mellic noted it with a slow nod of the head. “Have you ever seen a serpent be drained of its venom? It's goaded into biting a hollow tube, and the poison is released in that harmless place. It takes time for its glands to produce more.”

“So for a while I would be venomless?”

“Correct. I would be happy to procure you one of the prototype examples we use to demonstrate to those interested in our field.”

Anakin gave him a stiff nod.

“Until then, I would suggest using a plastoid food container.”

The food arrived, and because multiple eyes were aimed his direction, Obi-Wan took a few bites. Everything tasted like dust.

The waiter placed a wineglass before Anakin and poured something thick into it from an unmarked bottle.

From the way Anakin's pupils blew out, Obi-Wan knew it had to be blood.

Anakin sat very still, his hands like lethal claws gripping his thighs.

If it had been anyone  _else_ he'd been clutching, there would be stab wounds by now.

“Please accept the gift, General Skywalker,” the Professor said, as if this was a natural part of polite society. “It comes from a nearby bloodbank where I know the people in charge. It is clean, type o-positive, human, and of the finest quality. I think you will find it pleasing.”

Anakin's jaw worked.

He glanced at Obi-Wan with a hooded expression.

Obi-Wan gave him a nod and nudge in the Force. He didn't see a need to  _pretend_ to be human when he wasn't any longer.

Anakin held the glass to his nose and took a sniff.

Obi-Wan inwardly sighed. Not  _quite_ as urbane as it could have been.

Anakin, of course, hadn't even considered that it might be seen as an attempt towards such.

He was just curious about the smell.

Maybe  _this_ was why Padmé insisted on keeping their relationship secret.

She wouldn't be able to take Anakin anywhere.

Anakin sipped, while everyone else pretended to  _not_ be watching.

Surprise lit the vampire's face, and then he relaxed a bit, obviously pleased.

That eased the tone of the dinner, and it relaxed into something a bit less stiffly formal.

 

* * *

 

Anakin ignored the easy flow of conversation that touched on their war exploits, Bail's work in the Senate, and the Professor's tour.

Boring, boring, boring.

He would just wait until discussion turned to something interesting, and then jump back in.

This was the main purpose of bringing Obi-Wan to social functions, after all. He was very good at pretending the boring stuff actually had  _meaning_ and wasn't just wasting everybody's time.

Obi-Wan.

Who he'd apparently been poisoning the will to live out of.

Force. What next?

This blood, now...

There was something...  _different..._ about it from Obi-Wan's. Maybe it was the type.

Then again, Obi-Wan had been different from the professionals he'd had before he started feeding off his Master...

Probably that emotional component the literature had talked about, combined with Anakin's own fear and Obi-Wan's willingness.

And his pain.

Anakin knew Obi-Wan could sense his inner shiver, and hoped he couldn't discern what had caused it.

He knew he shouldn't  _like_ inflicting pain on Obi-Wan, and he  _didn't_ , exactly...

But the knowledge that Obi-Wan was more than willing to endure it for him...

_That_ almost tasted as intoxicating as his blood.

 

* * *

 

“Hey.”  
Obi-Wan blinked and looked up at Anakin. “What?”  
“Aren't you going to your room?”

Now that was puzzling.

“I  _am_ — ”

“No, you walked past your hallway.”

Obi-Wan glanced back, realized his former Padawan was correct. “Kark. I really need some sleep.”

“Agreed.” Anakin turned Obi-Wan around and propelled him towards his turn-off.

Obi-Wan glowered. “I don't need help, Anakin.”

“Until my venom is out of your system, you're just going to have to put up with me fussing over you.”

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow.  _Fussing_ ? Wasn't that a little  _honest,_ for Anakin?  
He must have been even more  _done_ than he'd thought, because he found himself lying on his bed with only foggy notions as to how he got there. Anakin was tugging his boots off, then tucking the covers up and around his former Master.

“For Force's sake, Anakin, it's almost morning—”

Anakin lightly patted the top of his head, grinning at the scowl Obi-Wan sent his way. “Yeah. I'm going to head to my room now.  _Sleep,_ Obi-Wan. Stop worrying and just rest, okay? See if you can purge the toxins from your system.”  
“Did you get enough to eat—”

Obi-Wan felt the wave of gentle love sent his way. “I'm fine, Obi-Wan. I promise. And try stay put until you've gotten the sleep you _need._ Other people can take care of important things for a few hours.”

“I can't just adjust my schedule to match yours; somebody has to be functioning during the—”

What was the word he was looking for? There was something he needed to  _say..._

It was important, wasn't it...?

But his eyelids were just too damn heavy...

 

* * *

 

Anakin stood for several long moments, watching the steady rhythm of his Master's breathing as he slept.

_Every time I turn around, I'm hurting you._

Maybe they had kept the Professor talking far longer than politeness might allow, but...

_But our lives are on the line, here. Or..._ his  _life, I guess, and whatever this is that_ I  _have._

The fact that Padmé wanted space scared him. Anakin wasn't sure what it meant, or if she would relent.

And he had yet to see Ahsoka.

_How is she going to see me?_

Yes. It had been enjoyable to scare Yularen a little bit.

But he didn't want fear from the people he loved.

He slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

_Sleep, Master._

When the first rays of dawn brushed the Temple, Anakin Skywalker lay curled up on his sleeping mat.

Dead.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You may have noticed I used the word kriffed as a synonym for pissed. That's because not every Star Wars swearword is the f-bomb. Star Wars has an f-bomb. “Frip.” It was used in Luke Skywalker and the Shadows of Mindor, talking about what happened right after Revenge of the Sith with Nick Rostu. He told his commanding officer to “go frip himself.”
> 
> Kark, near as I could determine from the comics, is a manure-based expletive as opposed to a sex-based expletive. Otherwise, you're stepping in sex. Which means something completely different than the context of the use of the word implied. ie— Kark is shit. Because of that, I've decided that since /k/ and /t/ are both harsh sounds, and /f/ and /s/ are fairly similar sounds, and kriff also is used as a manure-based expletive, it made it allowable to have kriff be piss to kark's shit, even though the context for kriff in the EU also suggests it means shit too. So yes. I just did what I was railing against other people for doing. And now I'm laughing.


End file.
